Date: Sat, 03 Jul 2004 19:13:12 -0500
From: gloryhole JUNKIE
Subject: "My Dad, the Cocksucker"
"My Dad, the Cocksucker"
By: Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com
WARNING: The following written material, based on someone's actual life
experience, is intended for an adult audience only. A reader's sexual
conduct in real life, should it differ from certain illicit activities which
occasionally occur in erotic stories, must defer and adhere to sexual laws
in his/her actual locale.
"My Dad, the Cocksucker"
By: Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
Any fellow who has ever visited an adult movie theater or XXX bookstore
knows it. If one has ever hung around a mall restroom, one knows it. Guys
who frequent cruisy forest preserves know it first-hand (or whichever
appendage suits you best). Hell, hang out at a Y or most any locker room for
more than five minutes and you'll quickly become aware of the fact.
And, gosh, certain young dudes are even lucky enough to find it out right in
their own home while growing up.
Yup! Some dads... suck cock!
Now, before you think this true story is going to get out of hand, let's set
the record, er, straight. Most "straight", married men with kids don't suck
dick; never have; never will (and all that garbage they gotta say on
record).
Yet we all know that most men, perhaps especially those married ones with
kids, will, accept a blowjob from another guy if the situation's right.
Their excuses for unzipping for a guy who is drooling at their crotch can
range from having a wife at home that won't suck dick or won't suck often
enough or doesn't suck cock very well or won't swallow the babymaking goo
they all want to blow down a throat.
Or, in many instances, its just that many married dads aren't getting all
their "needs" met at home. With better nutrition these days, even
middle-aged, married dads are more virile - prone to boning up all the time.
Hell, some pop wood as often and as hard as their own teenaged sons! (Let's
thank Flintstone's vitamins)! So he goes looking for "additional help" in
those "special places" all guys know yet barely speak of. The places where
just such men can freely unzip and screw their big fatherly dicks down a
throat... whenever and however often they need it. It only makes sense that
most straight dads learn fast to make their local XXX video arcade a regular
"pit stop" for their dicks. Where else in this world are there always
talented mouths open at busy gloryholes sucking and swallowing any and every
dick in the metro area? And where else does any straight man, maybe
especially a fifty-year-old father of six, encounter such guaranteed service
at any hour of the day or night (I ask you that)!
Then there are those other dads - other "straight" dads (sure, some still
call them that) -- who crave cock themselves. Dads who secretly hit their
knees for a dude showing him a tempting bulge.
Ever wonder what that middle-aged dad with a wedding ring on his left hand
is actually doing through his gloryhole in the XXX arcade? Yeah, sure, most
are feeding their fat meat and daddy goo to hungry hole-workers.
But some of those straight dads take the opportunity to secretly give
cocksucking (more accurately, giving head) a try. Hell, let's face fact,
some of those married fathers service other men like the best of cock sluts.
They, like any piece of trade, discreetly head to a gloryhole booth. But
once inside their 3x3ft semen cell, rather than unzipping, they squat at the
gloryhole to get that oral fix which the wife just can't - really,
honestly.... anatomically - ever satisfy.
These are the married dads who are, let's say, open to having a cock screw
around inside their mouth on occasion. Maybe they tried it once in college
or while in the Army and got hooked. Many might just suck one dick a year
but these men know it can be an occasional thrill (and hell, wouldn't the
sons of those men think it pretty cool that their old man sucks dick even if
its just one a year?).
And then there's my dad.
He's definitely a dad who easily fits the description of this latter group -
the cocksucking, cum-swilling dad.
But he's then some, too.
My dad, despite thirty years of marriage, three kids and being an usher at
church, is what one could call a real cocksucking pig. Hell, any guy alone
with him for three minutes would call him that.
And when you're raised by such a dad, life can be interesting.
There aren't a whole lot of guys who can say that as a fifth-grader, they
got head while taking a bath - and from their own dad. But I can. While my
mom would be watching television or out in the backyard visiting with a
neighbor, my dad would come into the bathroom where I'd be taking a bath and
suck my dick for me. He'd come in, kneel by the tub, roll up a sleeve and
casually slip a hand beneath the water's surface where, without a word, he'd
start to give me a slow handjob. I'd lift my smooth, developing frame up a
little to let my boner rise from the water like a throbbing periscope and
he'd suck me to a dry orgasm. Then he'd stand up, say "Thanks", smile and
leave.
Nor is it many guys who can say that the person who ate their first load of
sperm was their own dad. But at age eleven, the very first time I felt my
nuts ache that special way as they produced their first wad of semen was
when, while taking a bath, my big-for-my-age boner was between my own dad's
sucking lips. I think even my dad was a little surprised - but thrilled -
when he felt and tasted my first ejaculate shoot onto his tongue. Hell,
after that, rather than the occasional bathtub suck jobs, dad was ready to
blow me anytime I wanted to put my pre-teen dick between his wet, sucking
lips.
But that's exactly how life is when your dad's a cocksucking cumpig. If my
mom went out to the local nursery to buy some flowers, my dad would knock on
my bedroom door when I'd be doing homework and ask if I wanted some head. If
we were in the garage together after washing the car or something, he'd rub
my dick through my shorts, squat and blow me right there next to the tool
bench. We'd be on a family outing at a museum and my dad would have me duck
into a men's room stall where he'd give me a quickie.
He was that addicted to dicksucking and cum. A drive to the supermarket with
dad always involved him pulling into a remote parking lot somewhere where
he'd then suck me off in the front seat. And my mom often wondered why the
butter would be so soft by the time we returned home.
It got to where I was shooting almost every load I was making into my dad's
mouth. When I was twelve and thirteen, no exaggeration, I was probably
getting more regular cock service than most married men out there.
Where exactly my dad picked up this habit of his, we may never know. He
often mentioned that his dad, who worked nights at a factory, let him play
with his dick while he "slept" during the day. My grandmother was clerk at
City Hall, a regular nine-to-fiver even after WWII, so that left my dad
alone with grandpa all day. And a toddler can learn a lot in the course of a
day, as we all know.
So it's a given that my dad knew all about men's cocks by age two or three.
Did he suck my grandfather off? He never admitted to it but, like any of us
know, the answer is on the affirmative side of "most probably". I say that
because my grandfather was always a little nervous around me when I was
little. Like he had a secret or some really nasty thought or memory crossed
his mind whenever he'd see me. And, heck, my dad was too naturally "oral"
not to have started with the "sleeping" dick that he got to play with all
day back then.
And then there's the fact that my dad does admit to blowing the super at the
apartment building where he grew up in Bridgeport, a working class Irish
neighborhood. The man was in his mid-fifties when my dad admits to sucking
him all the time at the age of four or five. Before he even started the
first grade, my dad would go down a basement stairwell of the building where
the man would unzip his work pants and let my dad slurp on his fat, uncut
cock. At that same time, was it this nasty super who told the man who
serviced the boiler and the meter reader and the milkman to go around back
to the stairwell whenever they saw my dad playing in the backyard? Probably
- because my dad admits to growing up sucking a lot of men in that back
stairwell.
At that age, he even learned to run out the back door the very moment that
the milkman came to deliver milk at the front door. As my grandmother would
collect the two or three bottles from the man, my dad would already be in
back and down the stairwell waiting. The milkman would then appear around
the back of the building and meet my dad at the very bottom of the stairwell
where he'd let the child give him a quick blowjob. Same with the mailman who
came at noon. He didn't need to ring the doorbell but did. As grandpa slept,
my dad would run out to the stairwell again.
And some men, obviously hearing something from someone, would sometimes just
go around back if they saw my dad playing out there. They'd nod and look
around for the back stairwell they apparently were all hearing about. My dad
didn't know any of them, except for one who was a neighbor he saw often
mowing the grass.
And by six or seven, he was sucking teenaged boys at Mark White Park. It was
in the days when nobody cared much or thought about what boys were doing
sexually with one another. And few moms, let alone girls, were ever in the
city park unless it was with their entire family on a Sunday. It was a
strange era - when no one dare acknowledge the sex between boys and men and
yet when everyone seemed to know such a park wasn't the place for women and
girls.
Starting as a first and second grader, dad would go into the changing rooms
at the park or sometimes just behind a huge tree there and suck off all the
older boys, as well as, the men who'd hang out at that park specifically
looking for young mouths or dicks. My dad, at age six, didn't even have a
bike to get him there. Like lots of kids, he'd walk there some days after
school and always come home with several loads of cum in his tummy.
So dad was always into sucking dick and the taste of cum. But since most
guys back then were given to clandestine homo sex, where the only thing
worse than doing it was to ever, ever mention it (still the days of the
"love that dare not speak its name"), it was really no surprise that he
sucked dick throughout high school and even while doing a two-year stint in
the army.
And it was the era where most all men were expected to marry. The rest were
called bachelors -- until they got past the age of forty when they were then
called (with a wink) "gentlemen bachelors" (today we call them gay
cocksuckers).
But even so, most cocksuckers then got married and had kids. So it wasn't
all that odd that, despite his appetite for cock and sperm, my dad married a
nice Irish girl from the neighborhood. Marriage didn't mean that men quit
their sexual escapades with other men of course. Instead, they just got into
the groove of going further underground with it. Toilet sex. Park sex.
Locker room sex. Bus station circlejerks. Things like that.
The early sixties, when my dad was a newlywed, was also the advent of the
shopping mall. It was in the focused planning of the mall that my dad was
relieved to find a lot of cock needing to be sucked. While my mom would look
at dresses and hats for church, he'd go into the men's rooms and spend an
hour or two blowing other married men, big-dicked teens -- hell, any horny
dick coming under the stall partition and looking for a mouth.
Dad moved the family to the suburbs when my eldest sister was two and mom
was four months pregnant with my other older sister. That's when dad started
commuting into the city where he found endless dicks to suck in the huge
rail station men's rooms, in the big hotels catering to businessmen and even
at City Hall, where his mother, my grandmother, still worked. Dad used to
say that he could walk down the street from his office, sit in a men's room
right there in City Hall and suck ten cocks just during a lunch hour. Even
the Irish cops who worked City Hall were regulars. It was just something
guys wanting head kept quiet to assure they could get a blowjob whenever
they needed one.
When I finally came along in the early seventies, hippie, and even gay
culture were commanding a prominent face in the nation's cities. My dad
would take us as a family to the annual Art Fair in the then-predominantly
"gay" neighborhood of Old Town - probably simply so he could drool over the
gay men in beads, leather vests and amply packed jeans. Gay men were quite
the eye-popping sight in the mid-70s! At three, even I recall being carried
on dad's shoulders, and while walking through the throngs of people, ogling
(as best a three year old can), a man walking around in only sneakers and
shiny silver shorts that bulged obscenely -- like he had a grapefruit
stuffed down inside them.
Yet being with my dad, I found out it wasn't false advertising on the man's
part. With me still on his shoulders, he told my mom that he had to find a
restroom. So my mom and sisters stayed where they were, looking at an
artist's stall while my dad tailed the man in shiny silver shorts to a men's
room inside a nearby building. That was my first venture into t-room
cruising.
My dad took me into this rather crowded men's room - where apparently a lot
of guys attending the outdoor event also had the same thing on their mind.
After a few minutes of loitering by the sinks, and openly groping his own
bulge, my dad made it obvious that, rather than simply being a dutiful dad,
he was also interested in cock. And despite having me on his shoulders, the
other men there, including the nearly naked one in just sneakers and shiny
silver shorts, began to show off the fact they were stroking their dicks at
the urinals. My dad walked us over to where three or four guys stood and
they all took a good solid squeeze my dad's crotch. But my dad wanted cock
and reached out to stroke the huge cock of the man in shiny silver shorts.
After that, I don't recall a lot of the detail, but my dad then squatted and
sucked the man's cock. I was on his shoulders the entire time and from where
I sat, I still recall looking at and being pressed into the man's muscular
pectorals and stomach as I held onto the top of my dad's head while he
sucked.
In retrospect, it must have been quite the spectacle really for the others -
watching some dad with a three-year-old on his shoulder, blowing big dick
like that. But heck, what did I know at the time?
Over the next few years, I knew my dad often went to the local park in our
suburb but never quite knew what he did there. It wasn't until I was about
ten that I then, at that age, for some reason, got it into my head to follow
him one Saturday morning. He always took his car but I had to bike there.
I'd hop on my Schwinn and pedal the two miles or so to the park. I' d see my
dad's car, along with several other vehicles, almost always parked near the
men's room. Even at ten, on some level, I knew what my dad was up to. So it
didn't shock me when I quietly walked into the brick restroom and came upon
my dad sucking off three men who were all crammed into the doorway of his
stall.
My dad didn't even seem to care that first time I stood there watching. One
man asked who I was and got nervous over the fact that a little kid was
watching. But my dad didn't miss a beat. He held the man tightly by his hips
and just kept on sucking, as I stared, until the man ejaculated into his
mouth.
The next Saturday afternoon, I stood at the sinks as my dad let me watch him
suck five or ten cocks in that same restroom. He didn't say anything to me.
I guess he didn't want anyone knowing who I was - or who he was to me.
Funny that he didn't start anything with me there though. I suppose he could
have blown me in the restroom at the park just as easily as he was blowing
any other guy with a dick out. But he never waved me over to where he sat on
his toilet seat. I suppose I would have gotten my first blowbjob like any
other piece of trade from my dad in there had he waved me over. But he
didn't and I was too scared to step up to where he sat (oddly enough).
Instead, after a couple of weekend afternoons watching him service cocks in
that restroom, he started knocking on the bathroom door at home whenever I
was taking a bath. I guess he figured I was ready. That first time, the
bathroom door was locked and I had to get out of the tub to unlock it. I
thought he just had to go pee. As he came in, I got back into the tub but he
didn't go to the toilet bowl and unzip. Instead he just leaned against the
basin, smiled and watched me. He told me that my mother was watching "Cosby"
downstairs.
He then knelt on the thick mat beside the tub and as he looked at my face,
his left arm slipped into the water where it quickly found my boner.
And the rest is history as they say.
Throughout junior high, I was screwing my dad's throat almost daily. And I
will say my old man remains one of the best cocksuckers I have ever blasted
a load of cum into. But he ought to be given his experience. In seventh
grade we was always pushing for me to bring home friends who could make cum.
So I'd have regular sleepovers, often inviting different guys, sometimes
even guys at school I didn't much like personally. But I was more than happy
to see how happy it made my dad when he'd slip into my room at 2 in the
morning to blow me and whichever friend I had invited over.
Same through high school except for the fact my dad, at that point, thought
it safer they not know he was my dad. So I'd tell guys about the local park.
Or in a group we'd go to the park after school. Of course, I knew it was my
dad blowing us all. But they never knew it was my dad we were all shooting
out fifteen-year-old loads into. Except for one good buddy who lived a few
doors down from us. But he was always cool and remained cool. He knew it was
my dad sucking us since he was at our house every other night.
When college came around, I truly missed my dad's mouth and the way he'd
grunt like a whore cockpig when he'd want my cum. He'd "beg" for my cum
using a series of guttural bellows while my dick would be all the way down
his throat and his tongue would be lapping my big smooth nuts.
When I was a frosh at U of I, I had him come to a Parent's Weekend. My mom
didn't come since she couldn't get off from work. But my dad came and stayed
in my dorm room. I showed him the t-rooms on campus and he must have blown
30 college dudes in three days. Sucked me in my dorm room.
After college, I moved to Los Angeles and I dated a slew of beautiful women.
But I always unzipped for my dad when I'd visit home. At Christmas visits,
he'd come into the bathroom with me and suck me while my mom, sisters and
their families would be downstairs.
I married at 30 and have two little kids of my own. We live in San Diego but
whenever I'm on business in Chicago, I try to stay at the family house.
Despite my being a married man, my dad is on me the minute I get there - his
hands all over my crotch. Even in his fifties, he's still the best dickpig I
have as yet to encounter.
During my last business trip there this past May, I couldn't get out the
'burbs to visit the folk. But talking to my dad, he said he wanted to show
me something and asked if he could spend the night with men at the Hyatt
where I was staying. Of course, I agreed and then he handed the phone to my
mother. She didn't know why my father wanted to spend the night in the city
but thought that it would be nice to see her "two best fellas" spend some
time since I couldn't get out to see them.
So, at five p.m. the next day after meetings, I met him back at my hotel
where we had dinner and then went back to my room. After I called my wife
and kids, as it was still early, we kicked back to talk as we watched some
t.v.. Of course, my dad reached over and gripped my cock through my suit
slacks. I needed and it and let my dad blow me right there. Afterward, I
showered and thinking we'd just hit the sack, pulled on a pair of jersey
shorts. Instead, dad stopped me and asked me to get dressed. He wanted to
take me somewhere. I'm always up for adventure so I put on jeans and a
t-shirt. We went down to the lobby and hopped into a cab.
That somewhere he mentioned turned out to be the "Bijou", a porn theater
showing gay movies. Having gone to school in the city, I had heard of the
place but, being straight, had never gone there (why, I don't know). But as
I discovered that night, my dad had been going there for years.
I was stunned to see the action in that place. Especially when we got
upstairs and my dad, knowing exactly where he wanted to take me, went to
some back area, dropped to his knees and opened his mouth wide. As maybe ten
guys, with their slacks open and dicks out, immediately flocked around his
head, I knew what he had wanted to "show" me. Hell, we were in the place
only literally a matter of minutes and already my dad was sucking all these
dicks right in front of me. Through the cluster of bodies around him, he
managed to watched as several guys groped me and tugged down my zipper. It
was hot watching my dad suck dicks as, at the same time, he watched another
huddle of men suck mine. It's the hottest sensation to have your dad
watching as hands and mouths are all over your body and boner, let me tell
you!
Minutes later, and like any and every other dick back there, I took my turn
pushing my big boner between my dad's sucking lips. And there is nothing
that will make you bust a nut faster than standing before your own dad as
he's on his knees blowing all cummers - and screwing his mouth in front of
thirty other men, who, in turn, will all do the same to his throat.
But unlike any and every other piece of trade or meat in the place, I spewed
ropes of cum as I fucked his throat knowing the throat belonged to both the
public...and to my very own DAD!
The End.
Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE
gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com